Hot Head
by xElectrifying
Summary: Forced by his boss and a certain frog, Arthur is to attend a therapist for "Anger Issues" if he's to keep his minimum wage job that keeps his bills paid. Unbeknownst to Arthur, the shrink he's going to may just need a therapist himself. But maybe this guy is just what Arthur needs to keep his cool in more ways than one?
1. Chapter 1

"_That's absurd!" _

Francis Bonnefoy rolled his eyes. The stingy Englishman was being damn stubborn as always.

"There it is again," He sighed, holding a shrugged hand up. "your pessimistic angry attitude."

"I am not being _pessimistic!_" Arthur growled, throwing his arms up.

"Oh?"

"I see no reason that I have to go to an anger management support group! My anger is perfectly _normal!_"

"You're just lying to yourself now, Arthur. Besides," Francis straightened in his seat, looking directly at Arthur now. "the boss said it was mandatory for you if you plan on keeping your job. Calling people 'idiotic morons' isn't very good for the company."

"It's not my fault that people who call with complaints are the stupidest people to walk this planet." Arthur crossed his arms, leaning back against the break room's wall.

"We work in the customer service department, it's our job to assist is it not?" The Frenchman reasoned.

Arthur scoffed and shrugged, "I guess."

"It doesn't even have to be a support group, just got to a therapist. As long as you're doing something, the boss will keep you working."

"I don't need to go to a shrink like I'm some lunatic!"

"Make up your mind, mon ami."

Arthur was silent for a few minutes before he sighed and closed his eyes.

"I guess I'll go to a therapist."

"As expected. Lucky for you I happen to know a very good therapist who doesn't charge much."

"You go to a therapist, frog?"

"No, I'm not a crazy lunatic," Francis laughed as Arthur glared. "I know him on a personal basis."

"Old flame?"

"Please, he's not my type!" Arthur couldn't help but to chuckle and shake his head at how offended Francis looked.

"Though he is pretty easy on the eyes. You might like him, actually." Francis smirked, leaning back in his seat.

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, "Just give me the bloke's number so I can get this over with."

* * *

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he sat In the waiting room. The therapist's name was Jones and right now, his current patient was running fifteen minutes over their scheduled time. He turned his head to the secretary who looked bored as could be.

"Excuse me, miss? Do you know when the patient will be done? I don't have much time you see-"

"Mr. Jones gives his full attention to his patients and doesn't care for time limits. If they need him for longer he'll gladly listen." The secretary snapped, looking as if Arthur had insulted the most important man in history. He could tell she had a thing for this Jones fellow. They probably shagged after office hours.

"Yes, right. Thank you." Arthur said rigidly.

It was about twenty minutes later when Arthur was awoken from his drowsy state.

"Dr. Jones will you see you now."

Arthur sighed and stood up, stretching lightly. He nodded to the secretary and walked to the door with "Dr. Jones" written on it. He knocked on it lightly and was met with a loud "Come in!"

Arthur blinked, and opened the door.

"Hey hey, you're Arthur right?" Arthur looked to the source of the voice and saw a tall man with broad shoulders smiling at him. His hair was a bright blonde with a stubborn cowlick sticking proudly up In the air. Upon closer inspection, Arthur could see that this man had blue eyes hidden behind glasses.

Francis was right, he_ was_ rather easy on the eyes.

And American. _Oh_ _Joy._

"Uh yes, I am. Arthur Kirkland."

"Well Arthur, I heard you're friends with Francis?"

"Depends on what you consider the definition of friends to be."

Jones laughed and smiled.

"Yeah, he's always been a bit difficult to deal with, but after awhile ya get use to him. Actually he told me that you'd be calling to set up an appointment with me before you called." Jones explained, a sunny expression on his face.

"Oh did he now?" Arthur could feel a vein pulsing. "Honestly Dr. Jones-"

"Call me Alfred."

"_Alfred_. I don't really think I need to be here."

"Francis said you might say that. I'm also aware of your current situation."

"Good, I'm glad. So If you don't mind calling my boss and explaining that I don't have any issues with my anger, I'll be out of your hair in no time." Arthur said, nodding his head.

Alfred continued to smile and said, "Sit."

"Pardon?"

The doctor directed his hand to the direction of the couch and again said, "Sit."

"What? No I-"

"Please Arthur. Just an hour so I can give my honest word?" Alfred asked.

"I don't see why I need to."

"Francis was right, you _are_ a stubborn ass." The therapist laughed.

"E-Excuse me? What right do you have to call me a stubborn ass? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were asking for a death wish!"

"Yup, he was right on the dot. Not only are you a stubborn ass, you're also a _hardass._"

Arthur was on fire in anger. He marched to the man's desk and reached across it, grabbing Alfred's shirt collar, pulling him close to his own face.

"You listen here, _Jones. _You're a bloody fool if you think I'm going to sit here and take this from a damn American who doesn't know me one bit." He spat, glaring. Alfred was calm though, in fact he was still smiling. He must be used to this kind of behavior.

"Twenty-three seconds." Alfred said.

"_What?!" _

Alfred brought his hand up to reveal a timer that was stopped at twenty-three.

"You only lasted twenty-three seconds before you became physical. Most people last around a minute before they even realize they're being insulted. You, on the other hand, jump straight to the fist."

Arthur squinted his eyes before he closed them and sighed, releasing Alfred. He backed to the couch where he sat down.

"I'm here to help, Artie. I'm the hero, not the villain!"

"Call me Artie again and your head is going through that desk."

Alfred laughed and leaned back in his seat.

"Will ya let me help? I don't want you to lose your job because you lost your head one too many times."

"How do you plan on helping, Jones? Give me an anger-toy that I squeeze any time I get pissed off?"

"Ah, well not exactly. If you want to do that, I say go for it. But my technique isn't exactly logical."

Arthur looked to him with an eyebrow raised, "Care to elaborate further?"

Alfred swirled his hand around in a circular motion as he tried to think of the proper words to say to explain.

"I want you to embrace your anger."

Arthur pursed his lips.

"Anger is normal, right? Maybe not at your extreme level, but it's completely normal. So why suppress it? It'll do more harm to your health. Hell, you might break a blood vessel!"

"Oh harhar."

"I'm being serious here! When you're on the phone with a customer and you feel that anger rising, I want you to mouth the words you want to scream at them, but not actually say them. You might look like an idiot, but you won't be losing your job. Hey, you can even imagine them in a hilarious situation if that will help."

Arthur looked to Alfred like the American had two heads.

"I see..." Arthur nodded his head, slowing making sense of it. "So as they're talking nonsense I just mouth how much of an idiot they are?"

Alfred laughed, "Yeah, basically! And lets say that doesn't work, you can call me anytime to rant if you'd like."

Arthur waved Jones off, "Please, I won't need to resort to that. I'll only need to call you if my boss insists. Consider this the first and last time you'll be seeing me."

Alfred mocked sadness, "I was just starting to like you too."

"Watch it, Jones."

"Alfred!"

"You really want to go through that desk, don't you?" The Brit questioned with venom.

Alfred shrugged and stood from his seat, "You'll be seeing me one more time so I can see your progress. If you're doing good, your job will be safe and you won't have to deal with me ever again. Unless you want to of course." The bloke winked. He _winked. _

Arthur really wanted to smash something on his head.

"Yes well," Arthur stretched from his seat and adjusted his coat, "If we are done here, I'll be taking my leave."

Alfred walked to the door and opened it, "I'll be seeing ya soon, Artie!"

With a growl Arthur walked through the door, muttering, "Don't count on it."

The Therapist just smiled and waved goodbye.

Arthur was convinced _his _shrink needed a shrink himself.

* * *

[A/N] Ah. This is going to be an interesting journey with this story, I can already tell. But a fun one, hopefully! c:

Reviews are Prussia!


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur's jaw and cheek bones were in pain.

Sitting in the break room and rubbing his face to relieve pain was not how he personally would liked to have spent his lunch break today but yet here he was.

And of course the frog was there looking at him with a very amused expression.

"You know what you remind me of?" Francis began, leaning his head onto his hand. "Somebody who just finished giv-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll dye your hair green in your sleep," Arthur interrupted, not even looking to the Frenchman.

Francis twirled his blond locks around his fingers with a sour look.

"This is your damn therapist friend's fault anyhow, frog." Arthur stated, stopping his pain relief massage to cross his arms and sigh.

"Ah, but you haven't told one customer off all day!"

"Even so, the pain is annoying and I'm sick of all the snickers."

"Well your face when you mouthed 'oh my bloody god' was rather hilarious if you ask me," A voice said.

Francis and Arthur turned to see their fellow workers, Yao and Kiku, in the doorway of the break room.

"Not to be rude Yao, but nobody _did_ ask you," Arthur sighed. He could feel a headache already brewing.

Yao shrugged and walked to the fridge to gather his own lunch while Kiku sat next to Arthur, his hands sitting nicely in his lap.

"Isn't your therapist's technique working, Arthur-san?" Asked Kiku, looking at the Brit from the corner of his eyes.

"Well, yes. I still have a job I suppose but it's a big pain in the arse."

"Just be grateful the crazy German hasn't fired you yet," Yao said, waving his hand in slight disdain.

"That's because Arthur is on decent terms with his brother, Gilbert." Francis explained, shrugging his hands in the air.

"That's the only reason _you're_ still here, Frenchie." Arthur said, standing up. Francis laughed and shrugged, partly knowing it was true.

"A few more hours of work and I can go home to put ice on my face."

Kiku smiled and softly said, "I wish you luck Arthur-san."

* * *

Kiku's luck did nothing to calm the bomb that went off no more then fifteen minutes later into Arthur's work.

"IF YOU READ THE DAMN INSTRUCTIONS I'M SURE YOU WOULD SEE THAT THIS PROBLEM WOULD NEVER HAVE EVEN OCCURRED YOU TWAT."

Whether Arthur really cracked or if he just forgot to mouth the words, nobody was exactly sure. But soon enough Arthur found himself back in Jones' office, with the doc looking at him with a very amused expression.

"Arthur got in trouble, Arthur got in trouble!" Alfred sang, laughing the whole time. He soon then began to spin in his swivel chair, which annoyed Arthur even more.

"_Oh grow up!" _Arthur grumbled, slumped into the cushion of the couch with his arms crossed.

Alfred's laughter died down a bit as he held his chin in thought while still spinning.

"At this rate," He said, the chair slowly coming to a stop, "we're going to be seeing each other much more."

Arthur groaned, covering his face with his hands as he leaned back and faced to the ceiling.

"Bloody fantastic."

"Well if you stopped being a pompous ass I'm sure we wouldn't even be here right now," Alfred said, shrugging.

"I am not a pompous ass! The people that call are the real ones, acting as if their tiny little problems are the most pressing issues this world has ever come to see!" Arthur raged, still facing the ceiling.

"What did ya expect when you went to work in customer service, Arthur?"

"Money to put food on the table," Arthur stated simply.

Alfred nodded his head, shrugging.

"A legit reason, for sure. Just promise me you will never become a therapist?"

"Please, I wouldn't dream of it. I can't see how you do it, honestly. People preaching their self-pity would only annoy me."

"It's not them preaching self-pity, Artie. It's them looking for a safe outlet to share personal problems. If they don't it'll only eat away at 'em, and lead to worse things." Alfred said calmly yet seriously.

Arthur pursed his lips slightly before sighing and nodding his head.

"I see. Can I ask you something Jones?"

"How many times are you going to call me Jones?"

"Until I come up with something else, you bloke. Oh look, I already found something."

Alfred smiled and shook his head, "What's your question?"

"Why are you so damn positive all the time? I just insulted you and you smiled."

Alfred looked off to the side for a bit, thinking for a good answer.

Finally he said, "What you see and hear as a therapist is some of the most heartbreaking, horrible, saddest stuff you could ever imagine. From deaths to suicidal thoughts, it gets heavy on your mind. Makes even you _yourself _depressed. But that's why I like to be so positive. Because other people could use that happiness to help them, to push them through the pain. And it keeps you mentally sane. That, and it's just not in my personality to be a jackass." Alfred scratched his cheek awkwardly.

Arthur blinked, not exactly expecting such an answer. He swallowed lightly, realizing how selfless Alfred truly was. How important he wa-

"That's why you would be the worse therapist known to mankind."

Never mind.

"Oh thanks." Arthur muttered.

"But you have some pretty important qualities. You won't sugar coat the truth, I can tell just by your attitude. Not beating around the bush is exactly what people need if they're to ever heal." Alfred explained.

There was a moment of silence before, "Eck, I sounded like Dr. Phil or Oprah or some shit."

Arthur busted out in laughter at that. It was a serious moment that the fool managed to ruin with such a small sentence. Bloody brilliant!

Alfred chuckled with the Brit.

"Hey, you're actually capable of laughter!" He yelled, smiling big.

Arthur's laughter calmed down a bit before he swallowed and waved off the therapist.

"Oh please, I'm very much capable of laughter thank you."

"I don't know man, sometimes I don't even think you can smile!"

"Hey I'm human! I can be happy too, you know."

Alfred frowned for a moment.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"When was the last time you were happy?"

Time seemed to freeze.

His throat felt like it was closing up on him.

He could hardly breathe.

_And why was that damn bloke staring at him so intensely?! _

It was only a seven second time gap, but it felt so much longer as the question sunk In.

"When the clock was still ticking..." murmured Arthur.

Alfred blinked but didn't want to push further. Arthur was here for something else. Yet maybe they were connected somehow...

With a shake of his head, Alfred smiled.

"Alright Arthur, obviously the mouth trick didn't work."

"Obviously, I wouldn't be here if it did."

"Aha, right. So I want you to yawp."

"Yawp? As in scream?"

"Yep!"

"I am not going to scream, Jones." Arthur huffed.

"Come on, Artie! One good yawp! Let out your frustrations from life and just scream!"

"Ahhhhhhh." Arthur weakly screamed, rolling his eyes the whole time.

"That was so pathetic it hurt."

"I'm not even trying, idiot."

"Than try!"

"Ahh."

"That was even worse!"

"What is this suppose to help with?"

"To get your frustrations out, like I said before."

"How did you _ever_ graduate from University?"

Before Alfred could respond, a soft alarm went off. It was Arthur's phone, his session was over.

"Yes well, my time seems to be over."

"We can still-"

"No, no. Unlike you I respect the schedules of other people so I'll be taking my leave."

With that, Arthur stood up, as did Alfred.

"Alright, I'll be callin' to remind you to set up your next appointment. We're far from solving this issue."

"Yes yes, I'm aware of that." Arthur said, opening the door.

"Until then, Artie! Cya-"

Arthur slammed the door shut before Alfred could get another word in.

This was not getting easier.

* * *

[A/N:] This chapter bothers me so much and I can't seem to figure out why. Maybe I think I'm setting things up and out too quickly or rather too forced? Hm.

Reviews are Prussia!


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur stared up at as gray ceiling and wondered how he got to where he was.

"Arthur."

_Him! Arthur Kirkland! _

"Arthur?"

_Always at the top of his class in grade school._

"Arrrrthurrrr."

_Nothing ever held him back!_

"Artie!"

_But now he was holding _himself_ back, how ironic._

"ARTHUR!"

_THUMP._

Arthur gripped his nose and glared at Jones.

"The hell was that for?" He spat out.

"You were spacing out and I was tryin' to reel you back in!"

"I was _thinking_, moron."

"About what?"

"I really don't think it's any of your business." Arthur said, crossing his arms and ankles, slowly sinking further into his seat.

"You K.O'ed a guy at work and I'm your therapist, pretty sure at least a good portion of that is my business." Alfred reasoned, sipping his soda from the greasy lunch he was enjoying before Arthur stormed in, sat down on the leather couch, and lost himself in thought.

The Brit grunted and shrugged saying, "The man was being an ass and I took care of it."

"Arthur you were here no less than two days ago. I told you we were far from solving this but ya just keep distancing the problem from the solution!"

"Oh would you stop preaching me that nonsense."

"I'm just telling you like it is. How about we start here. What the hell happened that you had to punch a guy?"

* * *

"Well if it isn't the little angry man!" Arthur looked up to see a rather tall man with slicked back auburn hair, whose name he did not know.

What Arthur _did_ know was that he did not like him.

Trying to follow Jones' advice of staying calm, he ignored the man. But anger must have been evident on his face as the man kept poking at his nerves.

And he couldn't take it any longer.

Within seconds, the ass was sent sprawling backwards until he fell to the ground. It didn't take long for his German boss to come out yelling,

"_You are done, Kirkland!" _

And no sooner did he find himself in the Doc's office.

* * *

Alfred was holding his sides as he laughed, the drink long forgotten on the floor, staining the carpet.

The door swung open to reveal Alfred's secretary with a worried look on her beautified features.

"Dr. Jones is everything okay?! I heard something fall and-"

Alfred laughed harder for some reason, nearly doubling over.

"It's fine, miss. The idiot just dropped his drink is all," Arthur said lightly.

The lady straightened and glared at him, then with wide eyes looked to Jones. "Alfr—Dr. Jones-"

Alfred calmed himself enough to say, "No need to worry, doll!"

She nodded and hesitantly left, closing the door behind her.

"Doll?" asked Arthur.

"What?" Alfred said, blinking. "Oh! Sorry, where I grew up it was habit to call ladies 'dolls.'"

Arthur snickered a bit, thinking that calling the other gender "doll" was a bit absurd.

"Well think of it as calling people _'poppets.'_" Alfred said, mocking a British accent.

Arthur stopped, blinked, and waved Alfred off, "Yes well. I guess doll is an appropriate term for the girl you shag when the office closes for the night." He finished with a satisfied look on his face.

Alfred blushed and stuttered out, "Me and L? N-No way."

Arthur scrunched his eyebrows together, "L?"

"Short for Lauren."

"A pet name? So you _do_ screw around!"

"We don't! She's a family friend, she's too much of a sister-type for me to think of her as that way. Sheesh dude, points to you for jumping to conclusions."

"I don't believe she thinks the same as you." Arthur snickered.

"What does it matter anyway, stop changing the subject!"

The Brit stopped laughing, disappointed that his last-minute distraction plan had failed. _And this yank __is __so easy to fool too._

"I'll talk to Belischmidt and see what I can do do, Artie." Alfred said flat-out.

"I'm not asking for your help, Jones. In fact, I rather not have it! Losing the job means I am no longer required to come to these stupid appointments!" Arthur steamed, standing up.

He jabbed a finger in Alfred's direction and said, "I'm done with this silly little therapist office and you."

And like all the other times, the door was slammed shut as Alfred stared.

He cracked a smile.

* * *

To say Arthur's head was pounding was an understatement.

Shortly after leaving Jones' office, Arthur went straight to the nearest pub where he enjoyed tall glasses of sweet, sweet numbness.

If only he had the numbing now.

His phone vibrated to the left of him, on his bedside table. Begrudgingly, he reached for it and answered.

Before he could say a "hello" the voice on the other end spoke first.

"Kirkland, report to work in exactly thirty-minutes. Don't make me regret this."

It was his boss.

He was _rehired._

"R-right, of course, thank you sir!"

_Click._

Getting ready quickly, Arthur made sure to grab the bottle of ibuprofen on his way out.

It was going to be a long day if his headache pursued.

* * *

Speed-walking down the aisle of cubicles to reach his own, Arthur licked his thumb to smother down fly away hairs on his mop of a head. Though he felt it to be incredibly unsanitary.

He stopped straight in trek and dropped his folders as he stared straight ahead to his cubicle.

There Alfred was, holding a medium coffee out for Arthur, smiling. Sitting in a chair that was pulled next to his own.

_The fuck is this?!_

* * *

[A/N:] This is a bit shorter than the first two chapters I believe, but I figured that where I ended it was a good place to stop.

Reviews are Prussia!


	4. Chapter 4

"You dropped something, Arthur."

_I wonder if I'll be fired for murder. I have a reason for it._

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed." Arthur grumbled, kneeling down to pick up his fallen work papers.

"Yeah anytime." Alfred smiled, bending down himself to help. He collected some of the folders and held them out to Arthur who snatched them out of his hand.

"What are you doing here, Jones." It wasn't a question, he demanded to know.

"Doing what I have to do for you to keep your job."

"Which is?"

Alfred stood up, and Arthur looked to him. The American looked different. He wasn't in the usual tie and dress shirt with black slacks that he always wore in his office. No, he was much more casual. The white open button-down shirt with a blue tee under looked much better on him.

Yet he could never change that stupid smile on his face. _Arthur despised that smile. _

"I made a deal with your boss. If I watch over you while you're on your shift, you can stay."

"I do not need a babysitter."

"Don't be so negative, Artie. Think of it as a friend hanging out with ya at work!"

"You're not my friend."

Alfred just laughed and went back to Arthur's cubicle where he grabbed the coffee and held it out to Arthur again.

"I don't drink coffee."

"It's Tea."

Arthur squinted his eyes at the stupid smirk on Alfred's face and grabbed the Tea.

"What kind?"

"You looked like an Earl Grey type of man."

Arthur looked to the cup in his hand and took a sip. He clicked his tongue a few times.

"It'll work." He concluded and walked past the grinning Alfred to his desk.

"Listen Jones, if you're going to monitor me I want total silence. Understand?"

Alfred nodded and sat in his chair, adjacent to Arthur's.

"You won't even know I'm here."

* * *

_He's a dirty liar._

Between befriending all the male workers easily, and unintentionally attracting the attention of the female workers, (perhaps even a few male ones as well, now that Arthur thought of it) there was so much chatter that it was hard to focus on these reports that he was to fill out and finish.

"Cya!" Alfred waved, as one of his new-found companions walked off.

"Jones. What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, bitter.

"I already tol-"

"No. You're a therapist with other patients. What about them?"

"I'm on a two-week vacation."

"But you're servicing me."

"I know," Alfred laughed at the contradictory situation. "But I sent them to another therapist who I can trust while I'm on leave for a bit. It's all taken care of."

"And what if my situation takes longer?" Arthur asked.

"We'll decide, then. For now don't worry. Sheesh, relax man!"

Arthur's hands tightened into fists.

"Don't tell me when to relax, Jones."

Alfred lost his smile and eyed him. Now this he could work with easily.

"Why?"

"It's not your place."

"Why won't you let me help?"

"Because I don't _need_ you!"

Ouch.

"I'm here, so apparently you do."

Arthur stood up, his chair sent flying back causing a loud crash that caught the attention of his co-workers.

Alfred sighed and stood, "Sorry, sorry – spilled tea on him!"

There were sounds of laughter on the floor and they all went back to their work.

Arthur picked his chair up and sat down, pissed.

But when wasn't he?

"I don't need you covering for me, Jones."

Alfred took his seat and leaned back, crossing his arms and ankles.

"Do you have pride issues?"

"I know you have issues keeping your nose out of where it doesn't belong."

"So I've been told." Alfred replied easily.

_He's insufferable._

"Well, maybe you need help for yourself."

"Maybe." Alfred shrugged.

Arthur mentally screamed.

"Tell me about your childhood, Artie."

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, "No."

"Why?"

"Because that's history that shouldn't be brought up."

"If I'm to help you, I need to know."

Arthur sighed and forced his eyes open, "I don't have some tragic childhood."

Alfred nodded, as for him to continue.

"...It was your normal family. My brothers, mother, and father. Happy as can be. But father had a thing for gambling. Devil's game my mother would call it. You know where these things lead, I'm sure. We lost our house and were forced into a small flat. Mother got sick from the living conditions. Died. Father lost it. I left and build my life from the shit that it was."

"That sounds tragic if you ask me."

"Well I didn't ask you, and there's worse things that people are forced through. Drop. It."

"Arthur –"

Arthur stood and grabbed Alfred's shirt, forcing him close to his face.

"My life is not something you read in a tragic novel. I refuse for it to be. I'm happy with what I have compared to what I had before. I'm not going to let some petty therapist come in and say so otherwise!" He snarled.

Alfred glared at Arthur. He leaned forward, sending Arthur back as he lost his grip on Alfred's shirt. The American placed both hands on each of the chair's arm rests and got close to Arthur's face until the Brit's back was pressed firm against his chair.

"I didn't _say_ otherwise," Alfred's voice was steely, his eyes hard. "I asked to know your childhood so I could _help_ you, not insult you. You have issues Arthur."

Arthur frowned, but was a bit intimidated at Alfred's angrier side. Had he insulted the shrink?

Alfred's face suddenly went soft and he smiled, his eyes sparkling again.

"I'm not giving up though, _Artie._"

There and then Arthur decided that Alfred was not his shrink, therapist, no.

He was his enemy.

And the thrill of having a one-sided enemy made Arthur smirk.

Alfred took the smirk as a smile apparently, as he gave an earnest smile in return.

Alfred sat back and Arthur relaxed in his own chair.

Alfred F. Jones.

His therapist.

His shrink.

The annoyance that he hated with all his being.

No. Now he wanted this man in his life for the sole reason that _he wanted to crush his spirit. Make him regret that he ever stepped into his life. Questioned anything about him._

"Alfred," Arthur said, "I hate you."

"Oh?"

Arthur smiled.

"I really, really hate you. You're insufferable." Arthur held out his hand, which Alfred took and shook.

"But I welcome you to my life, git."

Alfred had joy in his eyes that spoke, _"Did I finally break through?"_

_No, you haven't. I'm going to give you so much hell Jones, that you'll be running with your tail between your legs. Job be damned. _

Arthur wanted to be the patient Alfred couldn't handle, cure, help. Arthur wanted to give Alfred what he deserved for trying to help a cause that didn't want help. Didn't need it. Maybe this would help the idiot finally grow up.

But something nagged at the back of his head.

_Did the man who wanted nothing but the best for Arthur really deserve this?_

Arthur tightened his grip on Alfred's hand until he hoped it was painful.

_Yes. Yes he did._

"Thanks Arthur. Just you wait, these two weeks will be awesome and you'll have your job secured!"

Arthur's smile faltered, as if he was regretting the mental decision he had made.

No. Nope. Not happening. He didn't regret it.

He never regretted anything.

* * *

[A/N:] This is where I'm hoping to have their relationship build, whether it be negative or positive. I want it to build into something, but if it's going to reach the light at the end of tunnel, it's going to have to go through a lot. Mostly because Arthur's stubborn and wants nothing more but to give the shrink hell.

This'll be fun.

Also question to all of you lovelies, would you like to see a side-relationship budding on the side?

Reviews are Prussia!


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